


Night Before, Morning After, Hello, world

by My_floaty_coaty_boy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is Chill, Cheesy, Cute, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, actor!dean - Freeform, artist!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_floaty_coaty_boy/pseuds/My_floaty_coaty_boy
Summary: Dean gets more than tipsy at his new movie premiere.  Secrets get out, but Cas is'nt bothered. Total fluff that's been sitting in my WIPs for ages and was never really gonna go anywhere. Read if you want, I guess?





	Night Before, Morning After, Hello, world

**\---21:00, the night before--**

“ _Dean! Dean!”_

_“Mr Winchester! Look here please!”_

_The voices were loud and from every direction, pulling his attention this way and that. Flashing camera bulbs blinded him, and he could only smile and wave, and answer any question he heard._

_“Mr Winchester!” He waved at the direction of the voice, pausing his walk to the theatre on the plush red carpet, grinning at his co-star Charlie as she walked by him. “Dean!” The reporter said something else, probably the name of the company they worked for, and Dean grinned and nodded for them to continue, “why did you not bring a date? Surely you’ve got_ someone _, and we’re all just dying to know, who?!”_

_Dean smirked pleasantly and pretended like that question didn’t rub him the wrong way. “Well, let’s just say, there is someone I’ve got my eye on, but they’re a little camera-shy.” The cameras seemed to flash at double time._

_When he reached the inside of the theatre, he pulled out his phone, dialling quickly and waiting for the tone._

_“This is Castiel. I’m busy. Talk.” The message had always been brief, and maybe a little impolite, but Dean had learned to love even that._

_“Hey, Cas, it’s me. The movie’s about to start, I know you’re busy, so have fun in your studio, I’ll call you later? OK, love you. Bye.”_

**_\--_ 09:00, the morning after--**

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel’s sleep-gruff voice coaxed him from his rest, but it was the smell of coffee and waffles that made him roll over.

               “Mornin’ sunshine. You’re up early.” Dean met Cas’ gaze, unable to supress a soft smile, despite his raging headache.

               “Actually, I’m not. You’re just hungover.” Castiel gave the tray to Dean and rolled into the bed next to him. “How was the screening?”

               “It was OK. Woulda been better if you were there.” Dean pouted dramatically at him.

               “Dean, you know how I feel about the cameras. But I’ll always be here afterwards, to bring you coffee and waffles when you’re hungover.” Castiel planted a kiss on Dean’s cheek.

               “Hmm, what _would_ I do without you?” Dean grinned and passed Castiel his own coffee.

\-- **22:35, the night before--**

_“C’mon, Dean, you can do this. It’s just an afterparty speech. Two minutes. You can do it.” Jo grinned._

_“Yeah, I know, Jo, it’s just…I should call Cas. I haven’t had the chance yet, and I said I would, so—”_

_“Dean, please, just…do it after. They’re all waiting for you.”_

_He sighed and followed her out, painting on a smile when someone shoved a glass of champagne in his hand. “Hey, hey, so listen, I uh…we did a great thing, with this. Writing it was a…terrifying experience, to be honest, and bringing the words to life was just amazing. I…I really enjoyed filming with you guys, an’ I think the final product was something to be proud of, which is I miracle in itself considering all the times I flubbed my lines—and I was the one who wrote it!” He paused for their laughter, “But, I uh, I gotta make a call real quick, so…party on, I guess.” He lifted the glass in a toast and the guests mirrored it, and then he downed the contents and walked off the stage._

\-- **The morning after--**

“You called me last night.” Dean heard the smirk in Castiel’s voice, although his brain was still groggy so it didn’t form the connections as quickly as it could’ve.

“Yeah, ‘course, you asked me to. I just wanted to make sure you were OK, not completely bored without me.”

“You called me thirteen times, Dean.” And, there it was.

“Oh.”

“One of them, you just made an ‘ah’ sound for three minutes until you dropped the phone.” Castiel raised an eyebrow at him and sipped his drink.

“Jeez, I’m sorry Cas. I know you wanted to concentrate on your painting, I probably disturbed you all night, what time did I come in?”

“Two-ish. Doesn’t matter, I didn’t mind.”

“Cas…” Dean sighed. “It does matter. I feel like an asshole.”

“You don’t need to. Sure, I was a little annoyed last night, but I think it’s kind of…cute. That I was the person you chose to pester, I mean. And, hey, three minutes? That’s probably a record or something.”

Dean stared at Cas, wondering not for the first time how he’d not only found someone so awesome, but managed to keep hold of him long enough to get hitched. “I love you, Cas.”

“I love you too, Dean, but you know you owe me, now.”

\-- **22:53--**

_Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right, but you still owe me, Bradbury.”_

_Charlie smirked. “OK, OK, you win, but it doesn’t even matter, Winchester, you know why?”_

_“Wh—why?”_

_“’Cause you won’t remember this in the morning.”_

_“Oh yeah? Well, I know someone who will!” He fished his phone from his pocket, dialling the first number he thought of. “Hey, Cas! Caas, I know you’re busy an’ all, but baby, remind me that Charles owes us, like, a hundred bucks. And sh-she has to make us cookies. OK, OK, that’s it, I’ll let you get back to it.” He hung up and stuck his tongue out at Charlie, who rolled her eyes._

\-- **The morning after--**

“—And that was the fourth message you left me, counting the one from the car. So, I am doing my husbandly duty to remind you that Charlie owes us ‘ _like, a hundred bucks’_ and is going to make us cookies.”

Dean moved back to look at Castiel. “Is that your impression of me?”

“No, no. If I were going to do an impression of you, I’d pick a more memorable moment. Listen, how good does this sound: ‘ _Oh, Cas, please, please, keep going, I want—”_

“—OK, OK, no, see, I’d never beg like that. Geez, it’s like you don’t even know me!” He grinned, fake-offended.

Castiel’s grin turned dark and he moved the tray to the floor, leaning close to Dean and resting his hand on his jaw and straddling his hips. “Wanna bet?”

\-- **23:12--**

_“Mr Winchester. That was a stunning performance, if I may say so.”_

_Dean looked up. The woman was one he he’d met before. His manager had introduced them, years ago. They’d starred in a few movies together, and rumours had even circulated that they were a couple._

_“Thanks, Lyds. I…didn’t know you’d be here.”_

_She moved closer, taking a seat on the couch next to him. “Oh, of course. I’d never miss this, Dean…”_

_They’d talked for a few minutes, about what, Dean wouldn’t remember. Then she kissed him. At first, drunkenly, he’d kissed back. Then when his brain caught up with his body and he’d pushed himself back._

_“No, wait, Lydia, I can’t. We can’t.”_

_“Why not? Your man’s not here, is he?”_

_“N-no, but that doesn’t make a difference. He—he’s still…we’re still…” He backed off, reaching for his phone again. Lydia might have said something, but he wasn’t listening._

_“Cas. Cas, I know it’s late, and you said you’d be working, but I had to call. I’m so sorry, Cas, I’m sorry, it wasn’t my fault, I swear, she kissed_ me _, and I stopped it, but—but we said we’d tell each other that shit, and…God, Cas, don’t be mad—”_

**\--The morning after--**

“It’s OK, Dean. Let yourself go.” Castiel kissed him, moving his hand lower. “Then again, if you can’t take it, maybe we should stop—”

“ _Oh, C-Cas, please, please, keep going, I want—”_

Castiel pulled back, laughing. “I didn’t think you’d actually say it that quickly! Damn, I must be better than I thought!”

Dean groaned and rolled over, but Castiel was too busy laughing. Dean silenced that by planting Cas with a knee-weakening kiss. Castiel hummed into it and pulled him closer. “Y’know,” Dean grinned against his husband’s lips, “you’re lucky I love you.”

               “Yeah,” Castiel pulled away and smiled softly. “Yeah, I am.”

\-- **23:38--**

_“Dean, Dean, hey, my name’s Alfie Samandriel, I’m from the Red Carpet Press. The film is amazing, and I know it was your first writing project. I’m curious, could you tell out readers where you got the inspiration for the main character? The Angel Jimmy, who fell to Earth to experience humanity though art? And the paintings in the movie were wonderful—whose were they, again?”_

_Alfie was short, and his blond hair reminded Dean of his own, years ago. He barely looked old enough to drink, but the champagne glass in his hand indicated otherwise._

_Dean took a few moments to gather himself and took another glass from a waiter. “Uh, thanks. I…uh, sorry, I maybe had a few too many, so I dunno how great this article’s gonna turn out, but, as for inspiration, I…drew from life, I guess. It sounds cheesy, but the angel thing started as a dream. I bounced a few ideas around a while, and the plot just evolved. As for the paintings, they’re by…ha, my muse, I guess.”_

_“Y-Your muse? Is this that ‘someone’ you’ve hinted at? The camera-shy, elusive partner?”_

_“Yeah, that’s him.  God, he’s talented. He’s real modest about it, too. He’s got an exhibition coming up, an’ I’ve seen his stuff for it, and god, I’m so lucky to ‘ave ‘im, y’know?”_

_“Uh-huh, yeah, well, I’m sure our readers would like to see them…If you don’t mind my asking, who is he? Just between us.”_

_“No, I-I can’t tell you, man, he doesn’t want me to.”_

_“C’mon, help me out! What about a first name only?”_

_“Th-that wouldn’t help, we have the s-same last name. Have done for ‘bout two years.” Dean grinned._

_“You’re married?!” Alfie gasped._

_“How’s that for exclusive?” Dean swapped his empty glass for a full one and walked off, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling._

**\--The morning after—**

“You told them you were married last night. Do you remember that?” Castiel looked up at Dean from his place against the other man’s chest.

“I did? Shit, I’m sorry.” Dean grasped Castiel’s hand lightly, tracing the lines on his palm that he’d memorised long ago.

“Mmhmm. I suppose you won’t have to take your ring off for events now, though.” Castiel reasoned.

“Do you know where my phone is now?”

“It was flat by the time you got home, so I plugged it in next to mine in the workshop.”

Dean grunted and tugged himself out of bed, instantly missing it. He heard Castiel’s hum of protest but ignored it, treading into Casitel’s painting room carefully, wary of the making tape, or pallet, or whatever his husband may have left lying around. It never ceased to amaze him how Cas’ usually tidy way of working was left at the door if there was art involved.

               Sure enough, two phones lay side-by-side on the desk, plugged in and screens dark. He picked up his own phone first, waking it up only to receive a flood of notifications: texts, missed calls, tweets, everything. But, most notably, a headline:

_“Bisexual Movie Star Dean Winchester Reveals Two Year Marriage to Artist Castiel Novak: His real name is Castiel Winchester!”_

“ _Shit_.” Dean hissed, picking up Castiel’s phone. He stared at his phone, filtering notifications from news sites and social medias as he walked back through to the bedroom. “Uh, babe?”

“Mmhmm?” Castiel looked up at him, his brow furrowing when he saw Dean’s face. “What’s up?”

“…They found out. They know about us, they know who you are. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry, I—”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Let me see?” He took the phone from Dean, scrolling through his twitter. Then his texts. “Crowley’s pissed at you, you know.”

Dean rolled his eyes. His manager overreacted to just about everything, and he was pretty sure the Brit had a crush on him for a while. “Fuck, I’m sorry. What are people saying?”

“Well, the second trending hashtag on Twitter is ‘#Destiel’. It’s a combination of our names. People are wondering what I look like, what we’re like together. Come here.” Castiel held his hand out. Dean took it reflexively and allowed himself to be pulled to the bed. Castiel arranged the blankets over them, revealing their shoulders, and planted a kiss on Dean’s cheek. The phone’s camera snapped, and Castiel looked at the screen. “That’s cute.” He tapped at the phone and then dropped it on the mattress.

“Did you just post that?”

“Yes. I guess I’m coming to your next event, huh?”

Dean grinned. “Only if I can come to yours.”


End file.
